Poachers in the Mist
- 4 years ago
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I used another two of the sovereigns from my money belt to obtain seats for Samuel and myself on the night mail coach to London.
"Do I continue to call you 'Samuel', or should I revert to your former name of Patrick?" I asked as we made our journey south.
"I was born Samuel Braithwaite, and feel I should honour my birth parents by retaining the name. However, I owe much to my adoptive parents and should also honour their name." He pondered silently for a second or two. "Then there is Matilde to consider. She fell in love with Patrick Jane, and might not be so enamoured with Samuel Braithwaite, a more plebeian title."
"I'm sure she will love and adore you whatever name you call yourself." I left him to his deliberations and went to sleep.
I also had been put into something of a dilemma, nothing to do with names but concerning the forthcoming wedding of Patrick/Samuel to Matilde. He wanted me to act as his groomsman while she wanted me to give her away in lieu of her father, who had been killed at Austerlitz in 1805.
"As Matilde's guardian you are the obvious person to give her away." John Stafford remarked, after I had voiced my quandary to him in his office, two days after my return from Manchester. Actually, Matilde attained her majority on the day of her wedding and legally would no longer be my ward, but that didn't solve the problem.
I had handed Stafford a full report concerning the time spent with Cato and his gang, finishing with my eye witness account of the events in St Peter's Field.
He read it, shaking his head and tut tutting at the role played by the local magistrates in the 'massacre'. He finished reading and placed the papers on his desk.
"This is an excellent report, which I will send on to the Home Office, where it will be completely ignored." He gave a sigh of resignation. "Lord Sidmouth wrote to the Chief Magistrate of Manchester congratulating him on the action he and his fellow magistrates took to deal with 'the insurrection', as he calls it. The Tories are rushing a Bill through Parliament which, among other measures, will prevent public meetings of more than fifty people without the permission of a magistrate. In fact they are fuelling the fire of radicalism by their more repressive actions." He shook his head. "I fear it will get worse before it gets better." He face brightened with a happy thought, "but no more gloom; your beautiful ward is soon to be married to Patrick Jane None but the brave deserve the fair, and Patrick is not only brave but extremely intelligent."
Matilde and Patrick were attending a concert that evening, with Madame Bovary acting as chaperone, so thus it was Violette seated across from me at the dinner table.
She too was preparing for her wedding, set for the day after Matilde's ceremony, and both to be celebrated in the Church of St Ursula in Valenciennes.
We had finished eating, and were each taking a small glass of sherry, when Violette surprised me with a request. "Would you do me the honour of giving me away at my wedding, Major Greenaway?"
I had been pondering on the dilemma of who to act for at Matilde's wedding and was quite taken aback by her appeal.
"Surely your father will perform that duty?"
"My parents are not pleased by my choice of a husband, not that they have met Henri, but they wanted me to marry a silversmith's son." She sniffed in disdain. "Not only is the man an obnoxious bully and a womaniser, but the marriage is solely to cement a business partnership between my family and his. My opinion was not sought."
"I'm afraid not many females enjoy the luxury of choosing their own partners, but I'm sure your parents have your best interests at heart."
She snorted in derision. "Their interests start and finish with money. I am merely a commodity, just like my sister, who is shackled to a man older than our father but who owns a silversmith's shop. Her husband is a cruel despot who beats her because of his failure to, ah, " she blushed a delicious shade of pink " well, let us say because of his inability to carry out his marital duty."
"I have already been asked by Matilde to give her away, and by Patrick to act as his groomsman. Much as I would be honoured to help you I cannot do all, so would rather do neither."
Violette considered for a moment. "If Matilde and I held a joint marriage ceremony you could give Matilde and me away together. Henri is having his cousin to be his groomsman. Doesn't Patrick have a cousin, Roland? Surely he would be the next best person to do the job if you are unavailable?"
Violette Crozier possessed hidden depths, and once she became Madame Thierry the Younger Henri and his mother would not know what hit them.
I could see her not only running Henri's life but probably also his business, while his mother would be relegated to a minor role, both in Henri's life and in the family home.
When Matilde returned later that evening I told her of Violette's suggestion. She clapped her hands in glee. "It will be perfect to be married at the same time as Violette. She is as a sister to me, and Roland would be good company for Emma Bovary, who is also invited." She gave one of her salacious grins. "Those two were extremely close when we stayed at Conquest House, almost as one you might say, and in fact they often became one entity ... with two backs."
"What about Baron d'Abbeville? Will he not be discomfited by having Roland, err ... monopolising Madame Bovary?" I was somewhat concerned as to what might happen at the wedding if noses were put out of joint.
"Emma regards Gerard more as a father, and he regards her as a daughter." Again she flashed a lascivious grin. "Besides which, the baron prefers females much younger than Emma. Several housemaids at Conquest House found the old gentleman to be extremely energetic, active, and surprisingly inventive, when it comes to the sharing of sausage."
Baron d'Abbeville always maintained he was well beyond the age of enjoying the pleasures of the flesh, and his requests for the Cambrai cheese, which I brought him each time I visited Château Blanchard, were for the piquancy of the taste rather than for their reputed aphrodisiac properties, or so he told me. It seemed the old goat was still sharing his sausage, with his vigour enhanced by Cambrai cheeses.
"Will you, Patrick Samuel Jane- Braithwaite, take Matilde Desiree Gance to be your lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forth..."
Well, at least the naming of the groom resolved one problem, although I noted in the marriage register entry 'Jane' was now spelled 'Jayne'.
The Curé of the Church of St Ursula in Valenciennes comducted the sevice in English, even if Patrick/Samuel spoke good French. It was a reflection of how courteous and friendly the locals were to us 'rosbifs', although there were not too many English at the ceremony, or rather ceremonies.
Violette Crozier and Henri Thierry stood next to Patrick and Matilde, each pair flanked by their respective groomsman, with me, as the person 'giving away' both brides, in the centre. There were also Maids of Honour: Matilde had her cousins Mimi and Chloe Renoir, while Violette had Molly March and Domina, the dark skinned Bermudian girl. I may be slightly biased, but I have never seen more attractive and alluring females gathered in any one place than those at that wedding.
Matilde and Violette, extremely comely young women at the best of times, glowed with the extra radiance brides possess. Chloe and Mimi, both shapely, and graceful females, also glowed with happiness. For the first time I saw Molly March not as the pickpocketing tatterdemalion urchin I first encountered on a London street, but as a bewitching, fascinating female. Her companion Domina was equally appealing, coupled with the exotic, and all the young men, and not a few older ones, had their eyes fixed on the desirable pair. In the congregation sat Emma Bovary, another captivating temptress, and alongside her my own dear sweet beautiful Caroline. I turned and caught her eye, and her smile made her even more adorable.
I had been rather apprehensive the day before the weddings when Rob Crawshay pulled the carriage to a stop at Château Blanchard. The two most important women in my life, the one I was to marry and the one who had saved my life, were about to meet for the first time.
I handed Caroline down from the coach, and Mimi, standing at the top of the chateau steps, dropped a small curtsey.
"Welcome to Chateau Blanchard, Milady Caroline." She said in English.
Caroline walked up to Mimi and curtsied in return. "Thank you, Chatelaine Mimi, I have looked forward to this meeting since learning it was you who saved Elijah's life." She spoke in French, and then both women hugged each other and exchanged kisses – not the usual kisses on the cheek but on each other's lips.
Molly stepped down from the coach holding John-Jarvis, and Mimi went over to him making cooing sounds, and kissed his head. Jean-Woodrow was brought out onto the steps by his nursemaid, and Caroline clucked over him and kissed him. Then she and Mimi walked arm in arm into the château, chatting together and each admiring the other's child, leaving Rob and I to bring in the luggage.
Patrick and Matilde were going on the Grand Tour directly from the wedding ceremony, but first they would return to the chateau to load the carriage Patrick had engaged as their transport with the clothes Matilde had gathered together – a lot of clothes. Eventually the coach was loaded, and it was time to say goodbye. Patrick shook my hand while Matilde kissed her cousins and Caroline. She then came and kissed me. "Adieu, Jacques," she whispered in my ear "You have been a wonderful guardian, friend and lover. I shall miss you, but I know we will always be friends." I nodded, the lump in my throat preventing me from speaking.
As the coach rolled away I felt tears trickling down my cheek. Caroline squeezed my hand. "Think of it as not so much as losing a daughter but of gaining a son, Elijah." I laughed, and kissed her warmly. "I'm thinking that in less than three months time I will be gaining a son, and a wife."
"Will you, Elijah John Greenaway, take Caroline Adelaide Ashford Braxton-Clark, to be your lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forth..."
With the number of weddings attended in the past year I could have probably conduct the ceremony myself, and my mind wandered somewhat as I listened to the Vicar of Holy Cross church in Bearsted as he went through the marriage service.
Era passata una settimana dal nostro ultimo incontro, in cui gli avevo rivelato di voler cominciare la transizione, quando venerd? pomeriggio arriv? il solito messaggio Whatsapp che mi informava del suo arrivo: "Ordina pizza. A casa tua per le 20.00". Achref si annunciava cos?, ordinando la pizza e, come contorno, il fatto che dopo avremmo fatto sesso e dormito insieme. Nella nostra relazione esclusivamente carnale, lui veniva a casa mia ogni venerd? sera dopo il lavoro e il copione si ripeteva ug...
Quando quella sera Achref venne a casa mia per fare l'amore, e io a un certo punto gli dissi che era mia intenzione cominciare a vivere come una donna, la donna che ero sempre stata, la sua reazione alla mia notizia fu una faccia a met? tra lo sbigottito e il sorpreso, quasi come a voler dire: "Ah. Beh, per? in fondo me lo immaginavo." Nei cinque anni precedenti, Achref aveva sempre sospettato che il suo pelosissimo orso gay passivo che lui inculava a piacimento potesse essere in realt? una donna...
Fu la notte pi? bella della nostra relazione. Dopo la pizza, passammo un po' di tempo seduti sul divano. Lui mi teneva la mano dolcemente, guardandomi con occhi che non avevo mai visto prima e tenendomi la mano come si fa con la donna amata, baciandomela pi? volte. Persino la sua voce quella sera aveva un tono diverso, molto soave, ad esprimere tutto il suo neonato amore per la sua donna. Achref non mi aveva amato particolarmente come uomo gay, considerandomi pi? un oggetto sessuale che...
A long, heavy silence followed the Professor's story, during which time he had kept his gaze fixed on the top of the desk, and his hand clutching the bottle of Jenever. At last he stirred and poured himself a glass. "Although the notes are in a cypher of my own design a skilled mathematician would not take too long to break the code, and then every apothecary in Europe would be free to manufacture Satan's Breath. I wrote to Henry Addington over three months ago, and God knows how far and...
I slid the report into the proper file just as he walked into the room. Dennis Butz stood there wearing his three-piece suit, looking as handsome and charming as any man could. But I was not to be tamed by his charm. "Hello, Linda," he said with a friendly grin. "Judge Herns isn't in today," I replied back in a frosty tone. "I'm not here to see her." "My plane leaves in less then an hour Dennis, what do you want?" I slammed the file drawer shut and walked past him to my desk...
The moment I had seen Caroline when the cab had turned into Queen Street all the love I held for her came flooding back like a tidal wave, sweeping away any and all doubts. As Annette Blanchard had predicted, once re-acquainted with Caroline my love for her would be as strong as the last time I had seen her. Annette Blanchard had known me better than I knew myself, and I remembered the dear sweet lovely woman with deep affection and love. Would I have fallen in love with Annette Blanchard if...
I conceived my son, John- Jarvis, close to midnight on the 23rd November 1816, in the White Hart Inn at Hampton Wick. I was naked, seated on the wide window sill of one of the bedrooms in the hostelry, with my legs spread wide apart and my knees up to my shoulders, as Elijah Greenaway, thrusting deep and purposefully inside me, loosed a stream of his seed into my more than receptive vagina. It was not the first time during the night he and I had reached an almost simultaneous climax, crying...
My plan for the journey to Grantham worked as intended, and Caroline received an invitation from Lord Brownlow to stay at Belton House during her visit. I also received a missive from the noble Lord which 'requested' me: 'To escort Lady Caroline Braxton-Clark and her son, the Tenth Earl of Hungerford, to Grantham to attend the wedding of Colonel Slade and Miss Teazle. As both Colonel Slade and you are members of The Sixty Ninth Foot, the regiment of which I am honoured to be...
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I stared in wonder at the powder in the bottom of the kettle, and when it had cooled sufficiently transferred it carefully into a glass jar. Now came the moment of truth. Had I discovered the essence of the coca leaf or only another stage of the process? To find out which I used myself as a test subject, and took a pinch of the white powder between my fingers, inhaling the substance as one does with snuff. For a few seconds nothing happened, then a feeling of immense euphoria overwhelmed me,...
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He watched them as they sat sipping their colorful drinks and flirting with male guests and hotel employees alike at the Garden Cloud Lounge. They were undoubtedly four sisters, all in their late twenties and thirties, and attractive. They were obviously American, and they laughed as they tried what little Spanish they knew on the young waiters. He had seen groups like this many times. Their often affluent husbands allowed them to have "Girl's Time Off" now and then. It worked out on both...
Andrea On Her Own (Part 3 of Andrea's Stand) A Note Before: If you have not read parts 1 and 2, please go back and do so. I have spent some time trying to develop the characters involved and a brief description of the plot so far will not help you much. Chapter 1: Needing More I leaned back in my chair and stretched. It had been a long hour and a half finishing the homework from my calc. class. As I stretched I felt the sweater pressing against the breast forms and glanced...
I'm not sure about love, it may only have been lust, but whichever it was it happened at first sight. She was simply the most gorgeous thing I'd ever encountered, big and beautiful, still lovely in her advancing years, almost glowing with vitality and health, although there may have been a few cosmetic tucks here and there, who wouldn't expect that for an eighty year old? I had to have her, I was infused with determination, I would possess her. There was, however, just one small problem; my...
This introduction story is based on true events. All the characters mentioned are above the age of 18. For personal reasons, the names of the characters have been changed. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The writer does not believe in any kind of discrimination or disrespect towards women. The story has been written for sexual satisfaction and should be held in the same regard. “Aah!” Nandini moaned as my thick member entered her...
IncestThis introduction story is based on true events. All the characters mentioned are above the age of 18. For personal reasons, the names of the characters have been changed. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The writer does not believe in any kind of discrimination or disrespect towards women. The story has been written for sexual satisfaction and should be held in the same regard. “Aah!” Nandini moaned as my thick member entered her...
IncestSant Ghoshal-Anand Goswami ‘pahunche huye’ siddh purush ya mahatma hn.Sundar Van ke ghane jungle me Aadiwasi basti se sata unka ‘Slddhashram’ h.swami ji vese to Raam Bhakti ki rasik shakha Sakhi Sampraday ke bhakt hn lekin vo Shiv Bhagvan ke nagn rup ke upasak bhi hn.Isi liye unke Ashram me ghuste hi ek sundar Shiva Ling sthaapit milta h. kaha jata h ki yeh ”Swaymbhu Lingam” h, arthat iska nirman kisi kaarigar ne nahin kiya, ye to uska apne aap bana prakritik rup h.ye nitya ling h. Swami ji ke...
Mandy's sickest stories - Mandy reloadedAuthor: SickoChickMandyAuthor's email: mandydarkfantasies [at] gmail [dot] comTags: F/f, torture, snuff, feet, nc, cannibalismProofread by EmmaPNote, that English is not my native language, so my writing will surely have many grammatical and syntax errors just as improper usage of expressions. I can only hope someone will still find it exciting. Be aware, this is graphic, brutal and extreme. I read it after writing and scared of myself.DisclaimerThis...
There is a shortage of cunt in Aldershot! Well at least of good quality cunt. The place has been a garrison town for hundreds of years and there are only two sorts of females in it. The first are the stuck up sort who wouldn't touch a squaddie with a barge pole and the others, who are not stuck up but poxed up, who you wouldn't want to touch with your barge pole. I'm being grossly unfair! I had been in a foul mood since the latest bust up with Miriam, and lack of nooky (sex!) was giving...
Andrew Running (part 1 of Andrea's Stand) Chapter 1: Running I called my Aunt Clara from the bus station. She didn't seem that surprised to hear from me and when I explained why I was there she told me to walk a couple of blocks to the local diner and get myself a cup of coffee. She'd pick me up in about half an hour. I sat and sipped chocolate milk and tried to eat a pastry while I glanced nervously out of the window waiting for my father to show up and force me into his...
by Millie Dynamite Jaden and I meet a few weeks after he transferred to the Naval base just outside of town. I sat on a bar stool sipping my Pappy Van Winkle when this tall African-American man in full dress uniform sat next to me. He whore captain’s bars. He possessed an air of authority. I nodded to him when perched on the next stool. He returned my nod with his own acknowledgment, in a deep voice he said, “Yo.” He spoke without looking at me. “I’ll have bourbon, make it a shot of Evan...
This is a story about seduction and transformation that’s written about a real-life sissy named Brandon Hippel, Brandon’s a cute little limp-wristed sissy-faggot from Abington Pennsylvania that loves to be humiliated and exposed online. She loves feminization, crossdressing, being exposed online, humiliation, anal play, degradation, being captioned, taking pictures, and talking to new people, so feel free to contact her through these various social media; Her kik is; HumiliationSlut2Her email...
Wand, Book and Candle, Part 4 By Elliot Reid The transformation slowed, the final change trickling into place. I cocked my head at the caramel woman in the mirror and smiled a dazzling, Colgate smile. My new face and figure was perfect in every detail, a Xerox copy of the original. I was the spitting image of my new crush, Tisha Williams. I stared at my coffee-colored hands with their light fingernails, noting the fine knuckle wrinkles. I then lifted my fingers to pat the...
Armand Wilson sat in his home office/study sighing. From the office, things had looked pretty good; business was on track, and Sharon appeared to be handling her new situation well. But in the car on the way home, Armand began getting bad vibes, and when he arrived at his mansion, things were even worse. Everyone on staff was walking around as if on eggshells. It took Armand about twenty minutes' worth of snooping, but the situation resolved itself -- the Hernandez' quarters were an armed...
by Oediplex 8==3~ The sweetest mom discovers her boy is both convenient and delightful. [She also recounts when her dad fucked her at nineteen!] Like the name of Madame DeVille's moniker, Cruella, some names fit the personality they are bestowed upon. Disney came up with that evil woman's apropos handle. My mother's folks named their only child, a daughter, Candy. This was shortly before the infamous 1968 movie was out. Though there were aspects of mom that paralleled the...